Daylight
by Shami Woo
Summary: They were walking back from a day at the dojang, when a little girl approaches. Of course, Hwoarang must make everything a contest. Pairingless. Drabble.


Two rivals were leaving a dojang, shouldering duffle bags as they seemed to walk into the sunset. Though, they were going to their respective places of residence, it seemed a lot cooler to say they were walking into the sunset.

While other components of the journey go predictably—Hwoarang runs his mouth a mile per minute and Jin is barely listening, the men are stopped by the sound of a barely audible voice, and a tug at Jin's shirt.

Hwoarang turns his head and Jin looks down, there stands pale legs protruding from a little pink skirt, and dark brown braids that hang all the way down toward the small girl's hips, cut off by adorable pink bows.

Jin blinked at her small hand that was still tugging his shirt, and her eyes lit up once she got both of their attention. "Excuse me," Polite, like little Japanese girls were 'supposed' to be, "My friend and I wanted to double dutch, but our other friend had to go home. There's only two of us to hold the ropes now, and no one to jump..." Her lips pouted a little, "Can you two misters jump for us?"

Hwoa's eyes narrowed as though to say _hell no _at first, but then he looked into those trapping dark eyes of hers, and gave a sigh. It was then, he gave a smirk as though the mind beneath that red hair had thought of something devious, and surely enough, copper-coloured eyes made their way to meet Jin's.

"Sure, little dude," despite she was clearly not a 'dude', Hwoarang knelt down and patted her head, and the girl smiles. She looks up at Jin, whose expression seems as though he is pained.

"Oh, c'mon Kazama," Jin _knew _Hwoarang was going to do this, "What? Too 'important' to jump rope with a little girl?"

Manipulative. The way the Korean worded that sentence was absolutely manipulative. And having a look into what could be, Jin could see the redhead running his mouth to the last member of their trio, and Xiaoyu's eyes grow wide in surprise. _"Jin! How mean! Did you really do that?" _

Coming back from his glance into the possible future, Jin found himself placing his bag down and following the Korean and little Japanese girl to the place where she'd been jumping, another little girl with a short bob cut and bangs that nearly hung into her eyes was there, waiting.

"I certainly wouldn't have seen you as one to double-dutch." Jin commented, cracking his knuckles for some reason.

Hwoarang gives a laugh worth about two syllables, "Whataya think we used to do in Seoul when the streetlights came on and the girls left their ropes sittin' around?"

Jin Kazama would never be able to fathom the ways of Hwoarang.

"What about you, Kazama?" Were they really trash talking each other right now? The little girls were giggling as they took hold of the ends of each rope, and the two men stood between them.

"I grew up with only my mother," Jin explained half-heartedly.

"You wear dresses too?"

A scoff was all the Korean got at that one, and Hwoarang laughed as the girls start a slow rhythm.

Trust Hwoarang to turn everything into a contest, and trust Jin to give in 85% of the time.

As trash talk continues, the speed picks up and their moving quickly, the girls were laughing and quite surprised that these two men were so good at something most little boys in the neighborhood cringe at.

Little did they know that jump-rope itself was a large part of training, and double-dutch tested speed as well as reaction time. It was manlier than they might have thought. But it wasn't as though Hwoarang or Jin had to worry about judgment, because children tend not to be like adults when it comes to inner and outer thoughts.

"Thanks for all the fun," The taller girl smiled, "But the streetlights are gonna come on soon, and Mama wants me home before then." The other girl smiles and hands them each a jump rope. "You are very good at this. You should take these."

The men exchange glances before Jin's lips purse, "They belong to you-"

"Really, mister. I want you to have them."

Hwoarang smiles and throws his arm around Jin, as a silent 'shut up and take the damn rope'. "Go on, you don't want your mama to yell at ya, eh?"

The girls smile and run off, and Jin's eyes shoot downward to the hand on his shoulder.

"So, Kazama," Hwoarang begins, moving toward the telephone pole and tying one end of each rope to it, "How about we finish this?"

Jin rolls his eyes, but takes the untied ends of the ropes, "You realize I have work to do." Yet, he starts up a rhythm for the Korean to jump in to.

"You realize I couldn't care less?"

So there they were, in the dim radiance of the first streetlight to come on.

Of course Jin realized that.


End file.
